


The Dim Sunshine

by fullfirefafar



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suffering, ah yes see that tag fits, i should have that tag in all my fics, tbh this tagging system will always baffle me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 06:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10679748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullfirefafar/pseuds/fullfirefafar
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a happy family.aka a story about a two people who found love and formed a family, had a lovely child together, only to have that child lose everything in a blink before he was known to gain a chance to see his parents again.





	The Dim Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> a belated bday gift for my dear friend [jeje](http://asthenicia.tumblr.com) hehehe ilu bb

 Once upon a time, there was a happy family.  
  
 There was a jolly man, though his bliss was a creepy contrast to his love for death. He smiled often, laughed daily, always inflicted joy and caution wherever he stood. His skill for dark magic was unlike any other. His love for the undead and all that was unholy struck fear even in the boldest. He was quite a frail man, but his lack of strength was compensated by his terrible talent of the otherworldly. He held love for many things, both disgusting and disturbing, but there was one where he held the highest form of love.  
  
 There was a breath-taking woman, though her love for dancing contradicted terribly with her crippling stage fright. She blushed often, stuttered daily, always instilled amusement and serenity in her presence. Her skill for dancing was unlike any other.  Her skill in battling struck bafflement and awe to enemies and allies alike. Despite the immense talent, her love for performance, her love for entertaining people remained true to her heart. She was a beautiful woman. A dazzling dancer. Even with her timid personality, she never shied away from danger or person’s call for help. Her heart, just as her face, was as angelic as her. She held love for many things, and was loved by everyone else.  
  
 But, in the end, her pure heart fell madly in love with the man whose heart could no longer be considered human.  
  
 However, just as she had fallen in love with him, the man soon realized that he too had a heart as well – that he too had a chance to obtain the happiness he so long had given up.  
  
—  
  
 In love they found it in themselves. In happiness they achieved by being with each other. His smile and laughter became more genuine. Her smile and laughter become even lovelier. As the years go by in the war, they stuck by each other, were there for one another. As he once warned her, his love truly was terrifying, baffling, sometimes suffocating even. He didn’t wish to let her go. He didn’t wish to let this glint of happiness to slither out of his grasp. He loved her so much, too much, that even the mere thought of living a life without her left him choking for air.  
  
 She knew this about him. She knew about his troubled past. She knew their relationship would have obstacles and challenges, even if some of them did come from himself. She knew he was passionate, horrifyingly passionate, and he would anything in his power to keep her close to him – even if it meant taking their lives together.  
  
 She knew. She knew about all this and it would be blatant lie to say if she wasn’t terrified in the least.  
  
 And yet, she stayed by his side and loved him sincerely.  
  
 She knew he loved her, truly and honestly. She knew he tried his best to make her happy just as how she gave life and joy in his once miserable life. She knew he was a bit – breathlessly, actually – clingy, but still respected her greatly when she asked for it. In time, he always knew how to make her laugh. In time, he always knew what to say and do in order to rid her of her stage fright. She was thankful for him in her life. And, in truth, even the thought of living without him pricked painful shivers in her smooth skin.  
  
 She loved him. He loved her.  
  
 And with this genuine love came born a beautiful, beautiful child.  
  
 “Welcome to this world,” Olivia cooed lovingly, tears still trickling down flushed cheeks and lips bubbling a weak laugh at the feel of Henry’s kisses on her sweaty forehead, “our dear, dear, Inigo.”  
  
—  
  
 The child grew up wonderfully and happily.  
  
 He was the mere definition of bliss. His smile was as radiant as the sun. His laugh was as melodious as bells. Rosy red usually splashed his smooth, soft cheeks. His hair was fluffy, soft, as white as the first snow of winter. He was a bundle of joy, a beaming sunshine, a cause of bliss and laughter to many people around. Though voice was rarely heard due to his crippling shyness, everyone loved him, cherished him, wanted to pamper him endlessly just so they could see the adorable shade of crimson in his plump cheeks.  
  
 He had his father’s smile. He had his mother’s eyes. He had his father’s pure white hair. He had his mother’s passionate love for dancing. Inigo was the perfect mixture of his parents. Although he rarely talked much in his youth, he laughed and smiled easily to the people he was closest to. He often clutched his mother’s leg when visitors came to visit. He often hid in his father’s robe when they went to town.  
  
 Inigo, like his father, was quite the clingy boy. However, he was still just as timid like his mother, often shirked away instead of approaching someone he so dearly wanted to be with at that time. Despite everything, he would always be noticed in the end, would always be lavishly spoiled by the undying love and attention from his parents.  
  
 Inigo was loved and pampered throughout his childhood.  
  
 And for that, he grew up to be such a loving, optimistic boy.  
  
—  
  
 “You’re doing great, darling!” Olivia cheered every time Inigo did a spin.  
  
 “Oh, that was a wonderful bounce!” Olivia clapped every time Inigo hopped just an inch off the ground.  
  
 Elated by the incoming praises, the young boy twirled and jumped again. His smile never faded from the moment he spent time with his mother, Inigo then stretched his arms to the side, head cocked slightly with a sight of a smile that rivalled the sun above.  
  
 To see his mother’s laugh, to see his mother’s smile, he could feel pride and joy bursting so madly that he thought his head was about to explode.  
  
 He didn’t mind that, actually. If anything, he was beyond thrilled to feel such a way if it meant getting to see his mother’s happiness.  
  
—  
  
 “Look at you, you amazing snowflake!” Henry awed every time Inigo swished his arms to the side.  
  
 “Wah! This is some super great magic!” Henry clapped zestfully every time Inigo huffed out a short, squeaky ‘hah!’  
  
 Thrilled by the countless praises, the young boy spread his arms before giving one huge clap. By his signal, the wind whooshed swiftly towards the grinning father. Laughter then burst from such soft, pinks lips once he saw Henry’s hair was now a frizzled mess.  
  
 To hear his son’s laughter, to see his son’s smile, Henry could feel bliss and gratefulness overwhelming his entire being.  
  
 He didn’t mind that. Hell, he loved feeling every moment of it even if it killed him.  
  
—  
  
 The sky was getting darker each night.  
  
 Even if it was broad daylight, Inigo shivered fearfully at the gloom that haunted the sky above. They rarely went to the village nowadays. They rarely got out of the house even as the days passed. His parents were still by his side, but their smiles and laughter weren’t always present like before. Instead, they held frowns, scowls, even spat out sighs and grunts when they thought he couldn’t hear them.  
  
 He heard them, of course, and he was terrified.  
  
 When Inigo asked, the child would always get the same answers. _“Everything is fine, Inigo.”_ They would reassure him. _“Everything will be alright.”_ They would gently pat him on the back.  
  
 It was only when Inigo felt their bodies tremble faintly that he knew, he bitterly, woefully knew, everything wasn’t as fine as it used to be.  
  
 He was scared. He was terrified. Fear kept him awake at night. The sounds of the unwanted jabbed whimpers and sobs from the poor, helpless boy.  
  
 Sometimes, as he curled desperately in his parents’ tight embrace, Inigo wished dearly, deeply, that all of this would go away, that all of this was nothing but a mere dream and he would soon wake up happy and safe in his mother’s and father’s warm, loving hugs.  
  
 He wished and wished. Day and night. Constantly and endlessly. And especially in the nights where the moon and stars were swallowed by ghostly abyss.  
  
—  
  
 But alas, as he grovelled silently in the rain with blood and flesh splattered disgusting before him, he was soon reminded that wishes were nothing but the cruel trick of the heart.  
  
—  
  
 His optimism died along with his parents.  
  
 His smile and laughter were quickly replaced with trembling, broken shrieks.  
  
 His throat hurt. It hurt too much. It hurt just by breathing in the cold, piercing air. Tears were long gone from eyes that cracked veins from within. Cheeks were void of colour, instead hollow and pale like death had claimed him too. Both arms were limp. Both legs were sore. Only in the rain did he find shelter in an abandoned shed not far from their graves. And even then Inigo wouldn’t budge; he would rather sit between the wet, dug holes for countless of hours.  
  
 He hadn’t eaten anything for days. The only nourishment he’d gotten was from the rain that trickled poorly into his gaping, dry mouth. At times, Inigo wondered if the starvation would take him too. At times, he wondered if the nights he’d spent sprawling motionlessly between their graves would be the last night he had on this horrible, disgusting Earth.  
  
 He would love that. He would want that.  
  
 But alas, the Gods above really did hate him.  
  
 The soil was too wet, too cold as he laid on his back. Blank eyes stared at the dark sky above. The moon was absent again. The stars had been swallowed by some unholy demon. Both arms were spread to the side, the back of his hands pressed weakly atop the graves. The bags under his eyes forced him to close his eyes. The agonizingly painful wound in his stomach forced him to stifle a breath.  
  
 Ah, if only this was enough to take his life away.  
  
 His breathing, so weak and frail, slithered unevenly through his nostrils. Never bothered to open his eyes, Inigo slowly, feebly turned his hand around. Both palms pressed against the squishy, cold soil. Sharp, broken nails dug deep into the earth, clutching the disgusting dirt that brushed roughly against the open wounds in his palms.  
  
 He then felt cold drops poking his eyelids and forehead.  
  
 And yet, he didn’t move a muscle.  
  
—  
  
 His father always advised him to never partake any dark magic.  
  
 Inigo did ask why before, but Henry only replied by saying, _“It’s too dangerous for you, son. Dark magic can hurt you bad even if you use a bit of it.”_ Inigo then proceeded to cry since he knew about his father’s knack for the dark arts, but the sorcerer then laughed gleefully and comforted him with the words of, _“Oh, I’m fine, though! Besides, I’m not hurt by it at all because the power from your and your mother’s love are enough to make me stronger to bear it!”_  
  
 Inigo wondered if those words rang true.  
  
 He never expected to actually test it anytime soon.  
  
 It was one of those days where the sky had gloomed terribly as if the sun had long exploded. However, after what felt like forever, Inigo flinched terribly to hear growls and snarls from afar. After stumbling poorly out of the shed, the child actually, finally broke out a choked scream to see Risen approaching him.  
  
 Or rather, they were approaching their graves.  
  
 Panic.  
  
 Panic boiled deep in the poor child. His legs and knees wobbled pitifully until he dropped and kneeled on the doorway. His arms and hands were too frail, too weak to even grasp at anything. Hazel eyes were full and his irises shrunk. The Risen were closing in and he needed to get rid of them – _fast._  
  
 But he was too weak.  
  
 He hadn’t eaten anything in weeks and his flesh felt as if it had dried and stuck terribly to his bones. But he needed to move. He needed to protect his parents. Although their bodies had rotted, although their scattered bones and torn flesh were buried deep inside the earth’s soil, it nauseated Inigo that those Risen would even think of walking on top of their graves so blindly.  
  
 But he was too weak.  
  
 Tears filled the corners of his eyes. Yellow teeth chattered roughly inside a twisted scowl. _G-G…o…_ Words that were neither his parents’ names for once echoed in his brain. _G-G…M-o…ve…_ He tried to stand up. He tried to wobble to his feet and reach for anything to swat the Risen away.  
  
 But he couldn’t. He couldn’t.  
  
 Still kneeling in the doorway, Inigo gasped and choked as if something had clutched his throat. _Sw…Sw-ord…_ He remembered his mother’s weapon; trembling eyes gazed to the side. The sword was still there, still gleaming beautifully as if it had been bathed by moonlight. Inigo only needed to reach it, to clutch it, to wield it so he could protect them from such eerie beasts.  
  
 But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even move his arms.  
  
 Anger fuelled his once dead heart. Even if he could hold the sword, he was just one child. Even if he did have enough strength in the word, what would he do? There were five Risen about to head his way and Inigo would soon be dead by the time one had clawed its way into his skull.  
  
  _Ah_ , he suddenly stopped, _isn’t that…w-what I…want…?_  
  
 Finally, the Gods above were granting his wish. Finally, he would soon meet his parents. Was that not what he asked for every single day? He had suffered long enough. He had seen more nightmares than a child could bear. Maybe, just maybe, the Gods were finally pitying him and giving him the chance to escape this pitiful world.  
  
  _Finally…_  
  
 Inigo only stared emptily at the sword a few feet away from him.  
  
  _Finally…_  
  
 He then robotically turned his gaze to the Risen that were a few steps away from their graves.  
  
  _F-Fi…_ A single tear trickled down his pale, hollow cheek. Unaware that he had slid a few steps backwards, Inigo leaned weakly to what he soon realized was a small table near the door. _Fi…n-nal…l-l-ly—  
  
 Thud._  
  
 The small table was fragile than expected, for his weight tipped it down, causing a thick book to fall right in front of him.  
  
 Softening his fall with his left elbow, Inigo gaped dumbly at the book. Its cover was black, shiny, smooth to the touch as if it was made from the finest leather. Dust poofed from the book, making the poor boy cough and wheeze until he finally threw up bits of water and saliva.  
  
 Tears now flushed in his eyes, Inigo brought one hand up and madly rubbed his eyes.  
  
 When vision slowly returned back to normal, Inigo gaped at the mysterious book in front of him.  
  
 It took him a few seconds, but he soon realized that it wasn’t any ordinary book.  
  
 It was his father’s tome.  
  
  _“It’s too dangerous for you, son.”_  His father’s words echoed hollowly in his mind. _“Dark magic can hurt you bad even if you use a bit of it.”_ His father’s concern smile etched deeply in his brain.  
  
 He remembered the thrill he felt when using normal magic. He remembered the harmless surge of power that slithered inside him every time he conjured up a simple spell.  
  
 If those powers alone could affect him then, imagine what could happen if he used the spells of forbidden now?  
  
  _“Besides, I’m not hurt by it at all,”_ His father’s words sang in his brain like an eulogy, _“because the power from your and your mother’s love,”_ His mother’s gleaming smile radiated brilliantly in his vision, _“are enough to make me stronger to bear it!”_  
  
 The Risen’s growls were getting louder.  
  
 Using every last ounce of his strength, Inigo threw his right hand to the tome and flipped open the cover.  
  
 And right after he did, nausea once again boiled in his throat.  
  
 And, at the same time, what was once a delicate shade of hazel eerily, furiously gleamed a nasty splash of red once he snapped his eyes open.  
  
—  
  
 It started to rain again that day.  
  
 The silver sword sheathed deeply into the soft ground. What was once a Risen was now nothing but dark, smoky soot. The silent child stared blankly at the ground. Puffs of cold air wheezed out of his mouth. Puffs of purple smoke coughed right out of his throbbing throat.  
  
 The violent smoke around the sword slowly fluttered away, showing the glistening metal that was now tainted with black blood and brown earth.  
  
 Unable to hold his stance anymore, Inigo kneeled weakly to the ground. His head hung low, heavily, crimson eyes still throbbing and gawking at nothing in particular.  
  
 He felt his energy draining rapidly.  
  
 In a matter of seconds, just as his eyes turned hazel, Inigo dropped frailly to the ground. The sword tipped to the side as well, its sharp tip mere inches away from his panting, gaping mouth.  
  
 The rain was quite heavy today.  
  
 Head turned to face Olivia’s grave, Inigo feebly reached out for her. At the same time, his left hand stretched towards Henry’s, fingers digging deep into the soil drenched in blood.  
  
  _I…I did it…_ He faintly cheered. _I…I p-pro…t-ect…ed…t-the…m—_  
  
 Vision blurred into two, into three, until his mind finally became got by deep fatigue.  
  
—  
  
 Inigo really wished that he could meet his parents again.  
  
 However, since that fateful day, he soon realized – as bitter as it was to be reminded – that his parents wouldn’t want to see him in this state before his last moments on Earth.  
  
 So he trained.  
  
 It was a gruelling attempt, but he forced himself, body and soul, to train so he could move on for his parents’ sake. It was a straining effort, but the child sucked it up and forced himself endlessly. Thankfully, the dark magic his father once forbade him gave Inigo the strength he needed to push himself. He didn’t go through the tome deeply, for just the slightest whiff of dark magic was enough to choke and gag him breathlessly. It felt like needles had pierced and punctured his skin. It felt like his heart was all too ready to burst right out of his chest.  
  
 Luckily, the excruciating pain didn’t last for so long. And next thing he knew, Inigo soon perceived that horrifying chill as nothing more but little pinches on his skin.  
  
 He did take his father’s advice though and kept the dark magic at a minimum so it wouldn’t overwhelm him.  
  
  _“Besides, I’m not hurt by it at all because the power from your and your mother’s love are enough to make me stronger to bear it!”_  
  
 The words were enough to actually make him giggle bitterly as Inigo splashed water onto his face. Kneeling by the small lake near their graves, the boy took a deep breath and exhaled shakily through a gaping mouth.  
  
 It turned out that his father was right all along.  
  
—  
  
 After the perfect spin, he pressed one foot onto the ground and gave a gallant bow. Both arms spread before his big finale, Inigo then cocked his head and flashed a bright smile. “And that,” The boy straightened his back, “concludes my small little performance!”  
  
 There were no responses, of course, for all that he received was the chilling brush of the wind.  
  
 His smile never wavered, however.  
  
 Hazel eyes closed quietly. Pale pink lips twitched just the slightest. He could hear her voice, hear her praises, hear her comments as well about what and where he should improve in his steps. The mere thought of it all made his heart race, made his eyes burn, but Inigo then opened his eyes, huffing a calm chuckle at the sight of the buried.  
  
 “Ah, I’ll definitely improve, Mom.” His voice smooth as silk yet hinted with the slightest sorrow, Inigo took another deep breath before he looked at the grave next to hers. “Oh, but don’t think I’ve just been practicing my dancing!” Excitement fluttered in his beating heart, the boy clapped once before taking a deeper, longer breath.  
  
 As he exhaled through his mouth, he slowly parted his hands. And when he did, a small wave of wind spiralled between his palms.  
  
 “S- _ee?_ ” Voice cracked just the slightest in a mixture of woe and excitement, Inigo looked at Henry’s grave. “I managed to conjure up my own wind!” His eyes burn again, but he decided to ignore it. “N-ow…if I do this…” At the mental count of three, Inigo carefully spread his hands apart, then raised his right hand in the air.  
  
 As his mind chanted the spell, the small wind intensified from beneath his feet and whipped upwards to the gloomy sky. His white hair fluttered upwards, then puffed into a thick mess once the wind disappeared.  
  
 He knew he was being delusional, but Inigo didn’t care when he thought he could hear his father’s laughter and praises being sung in his ears.  
  
 His heartbeat still raced. His smile still shined.  
  
 A single tear finally trickled down his cheek.  
  
—  
  
 Inigo knew he had to leave his parents someday.  
  
 He knew. He knew this but he didn’t wish to acknowledge it.  
  
 However, after bumping into Owain who was searching for survivors, after hearing the news that many others were alive, Inigo knew his second chance to live a life was given right before his very eyes.  
  
 From the moment they met, Owain insisted that Inigo should come along. He insisted that the place he stayed wouldn’t be safe for so long, and that the Fell Dragon would not be so merciful as to take their lives as simply and swiftly.  
  
 He insisted, and yet Inigo was stubbornly hesitant.  
  
 He didn’t wish to leave his parents’ graves. He didn’t wish to let those filthy, vile monsters to step on their bodies. Gods, just the mere thought of it burned fury in his heart.  
  
 Inigo would rather die protecting them.  
  
 Or at least, that’s what he first thought.  
  
 “Lucina and the others are collecting the gemstones!” Owain explained hastily. “She said that Lady Tiki has found a way for us to save this future and our parents!”  
  
 Save…the future.  
  
 Save…his parents…?  
  
 Inigo loved – used to love – jokes and jest, and he knew Owain was a rather flamboyant fellow. But now wasn’t the time for jokes, and Inigo actually snapped briefly at the Ylissean prince for spewing such tasteless nonsense.  
  
 However, just the single glance at Owain’s firm, tight frown was more than enough to tell Inigo otherwise.  
  
 Inigo couldn’t believe him. He actually wondered that this was just a dream and he would soon wake up in that cold, crooked shed.  
  
  _Drip…_  
  
 He didn’t realize that it started to rain that day.  
  
 And after feeling the first drop of rain brushing down his dry cheek, Inigo knew this was reality.  
  
—  
  
 The flowers looked beautiful on their graves.  
  
 Hazel eyes still fixed on the two, Inigo slowly rose to his feet. The silver sword was sheathed neatly by his right hip. The thick tome was tucked carefully inside his satchel.  
  
 He wondered if this would be the last time he’d ever see them.  
  
 Ah, just the thought alone ripped his heart into two.  
  
 Quickly he shook his head. One hand firm on the hilt of the sword, Inigo let out a slow sigh. “Well, I’m off.” Carefully he whispered. “I…I’m going to go save the world, Mom, Dad.” His voice still wavered, yet Inigo did his best to keep his composure.  
  
 His smile was trembling, but he kept on smiling.  
  
 Teeth gently nipping the insides of his lower lip, Inigo spun his heel and walked away.  
  
 His smile actually stayed for a while when he swore he could hear his parents’ farewells.  
  
—  
  
 Inigo was honestly surprised at the amount of survivors in this devastating apocalypse.  
  
 He was exceptionally surprised to see the young exalt whom he hadn’t seen in years.  
  
 “Inigo,” Lucina called out, “it’s been a while. I’m glad to see you’re unharmed.” Her smile was obviously weary, but just as sincere as she looked at him.  
  
 Inigo didn’t reply immediately. Hazel eyes just stared in bafflement, lips suddenly feeling dry at the presence of the princess.  
  
 His heart started racing. And for the first time in his life, it raced for a whole different reason.  
  
—  
  
 To be awakened in a whole different place – in a whole different timeline – Inigo sometimes wondered if the Gods loved to test and play around with him just to see how long he could last.  
  
 Once again he was alone.  
  
 Once again he had lost sight of the friends and family he loved dearly.  
  
 Fear and panic bubbled from within, almost made him nauseous with worry. But Inigo gulped it down, then forced himself to his feet as he tried to make do of his surroundings. Hand rough and hard on the hilt of his sword, he looked left and right.  
  
 No one was in sight. Not his friends. Not a soul.  
  
 Panic still kept him alarmed, but awe and bafflement then softened his stance when Inigo realized something that he thought he could never see again.  
  
 The leaves were green.  
  
 The trees were brown.  
  
 Hell, one quick whiff from his nostrils felt like his lungs had been cleansed after years of inhaling poison.  
  
 Stupor now slowly swallowing that fear, Inigo blinked dumbly before cocking his head upwards.  
  
 The sky was a beautiful shade of blue. The clouds were puffy, thick, an elegant tuff of pure white.  
  
 Again he took a deep breath. This time, he gasped loudly and shortly.  
  
 They did it.  
  
 They had travelled back in time.  
  
 His legs wobbled. His arms felt like jelly. Body stiffened immediately, Inigo slapped one hand to his gaping mouth and gawked at the grass below.  
  
 He was in a world where beauty and peace used to cleanse the land.  
  
 He was in a world where hope and dreams could be obtained.  
  
 He was…H-He was…  
  
  _Drip… Drip…_  
  
 He was in a world where his parents were alive.  
  
—  
  
 A few months passed by quickly since their little time-travel.  
  
 Inigo still couldn’t find the rest. He still couldn’t find his parents. He was anxious. He was excited. He was nervous. Sometimes everything was felt all at once until all Inigo could feel was pure nausea.  
  
 He was here.  
  
 He was here.  
  
 In that short amount of time, he kept on travelling. He pursed bandits and killed them off from villagers. He pursued ladies and wooed them as best as he could just to make them smile. Sometime he succeeded. Sometimes he failed – miserably. But all that were more than enough to distract his worried mind. He would much rather make a person smile than to make them scream by his blade.  
  
 But alas, Inigo knew, if he didn’t take their lives, they would be more than happy to take his.  
  
 He sometimes apologized to his mother for having her sword so soaked with blood from the living.  
  
 He sometimes apologized to his father for using his tome so often against the once beating hearts.  
  
 Guilt sometimes twisted his heart. Reminiscence often choked his throat.  
  
 But Inigo knew there was no time to dillydally. One could only mourn for so long, after all.  
  
 So, with a wide, white smile curling the corners of his lips, Inigo moved on, swaying his sword and piercing them madly like a cheerful maniac.  
  
—  
  
 He couldn’t believe it.  
  
 No matter how many times he rubbed his eyes. No matter how many times he shook his head. Hell, even if he thought of poking his eyes out and shining them clean before putting them back in each socket, Inigo just couldn’t believe it.  
  
 “E-Er…” She’s here. “I—please don’t look at me s-so…intently…” She was really here. “It ah… It makes me t-terribly bashful…” He looked left. He looked right. And once he dropped his gaze at the petite dancer, he actually choked back a sob.  
  
 She didn’t respond immediately, though bafflement flashed perfectly upon her beautiful face.  
  
 Unable to take the pressure any longer, Inigo squeezed his eyes shut and made a mad dash for it.  
  
 She’s here.  
  
 “What?! W-wait! Don’t go!”  
  
 By Gods, just when Inigo thought he couldn’t hold on by the sound of her voice.  
  
 “There you are my pretty, pretty flower!  
  
 With tears trickling down his flushed face, a short gasp loudly escaped from his wide, trembling smile at the sound of his voice.  
  
—  
  
  _They’re alive._  
  
 “I’m shyer than you are, Mom!” Like a child, he argued with her. A tiny pout tugged by his lower lip, only the Gods knew just how wild his heart was shaking inside his chest.  
  
  _They’re alive._  
  
 “No you’re not!” Unaware of the whirlwind of emotions in him, Olivia retorted. Hands close to her howling heart, the dancer then pulled a similar pout to the tall mercenary. In the end, the two stayed in silence, their faces a bright shade of red and timid squeaks stifled behind pursed lips.  
  
  _They’re alive._  
  
 As silence became their form of communication, Henry then quickly shattered it with roaring laughter.  
  
 “Aw, look at you two!” His smile was bright as the sun above, Henry clapped once before bouncing in one place beside Olivia. “Your faces are so red your heads might just explode into flames!” Despite his tasteless joke that would sure twist scowls on the other Shepherd’s mouths, Henry only laughed louder for his joy overwhelmed his emotions once the news of Inigo’s identity was brought into light.  
  
  _They’re…a-alive…_  
  
 Inigo watched as Olivia pouted at Henry who then flashed a cheeky grin. He watched as Henry playfully pinched her cheek which only made the dancer squeal even louder.  
  
 The longer he looked, the more he couldn’t believe it.  
  
  _Mom…Dad…_  
  
 “I-Inigo?!” In a matter of seconds, her voice echoed beautifully once she felt her body being pulled to a hug. Left cheek nuzzling on what she quickly assumed was someone’s shoulder, Olivia gaped forward, only to realize Henry was in the same situation she was in too, though his left cheek rested against the side of Inigo’s head.  
  
 Laughter then filled the bright sky.  
  
 It wasn’t Henry’s. And it sure as hell wasn’t Olivia’s.  
  
 It took them a second, but both dancer and sorcerer soon realized that the delightful burst came from none other than their darling future son.  
  
 “Mom! Dad!” Body swaying left and right, Inigo couldn’t contain his thrill for so long and laughed even louder. “Gods, I missed you!” His eyes felt wet, yet the mercenary could no longer give a damn about appearances. “I missed you so, so, so much!!”  
  
 His laughter was then mixed with cracked sobs. And although the young parents didn’t respond verbally, they only glanced at each other before wrapping each arm on the young man’s body.  
  
 To feel their warmth, to hear their breathing, to _know_ that they’re safe and alive.  
  
  _Gods…!_ Inigo only bit back his trembling smile and squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
 Once upon a time, there was boy who missed his happily family so much.  
  
_**END**_

**Author's Note:**

> just know that i wrote this from the heart :3c


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